


New Frontiers

by Silmarils (semit)



Series: Melkor's Choice [4]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:55:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22941343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semit/pseuds/Silmarils
Summary: Melkor and Mairon invade a new land that begs to be conquered, however, such a conquest may not be so simple for the two Ainur. [Each work in this series can be read as a standalone fic.]
Series: Melkor's Choice [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648705
Kudos: 12





	New Frontiers

“Mairon, come with me,” and Melkor gestured toward a circular portal he had conjured in his study. “Let us begin our game.”

The Maia was bursting with excitement over these past two days at the prospect of new endeavors. Long they had battled the elves, and though some sweet victories were secured, he grew weary at the relentless pace, limited tactical gains, and endurance of long, cold sieges. Now that his Master had rid himself of the Silmarils, an immense weight lifted from the Dark Lord for the jewels had driven an illness into Melkor’s mind. The morale of all lifted with their departure.

Through the portal, a warm wind mingled with the smell of date palms and cypress to flutter papers throughout the study. Many tall thin cypresses were visible beyond the threshold and the spiked spires of tower poked high above the sprawl of a city bursting with amber clay buildings. Melkor smiled broadly, “Oh this will be lovely,” as he stepped across the threshold.

Following behind, Mairon trailed his Master. Traversing through the portal was akin to walking through a door. No strange pinpricking sensations nor swirling dizziness. It was natural, pure power and Mairon loved the one he shadowed striding purposefully and directly to the red city, “My Lord, could you perhaps share with me your designs? What know you of this place? What tactical capabilities have they? Who rules the Malgors? Do they wield magic?”

Melkor’s pace was dreadfully rapid, “So many questions, little one. I plan on… speaking with them,” he grinned fiendishly.

Mairon laughed at this in delight and flashed smile of his own for he knew that sweet games would be played. “Hmm. Yes. Let us… talk with them,”

Quickly they entered a pampered city swimming with commerce. Colorful marketplaces and many mazed corridors buzzed with the iron gears of trade. Few paid them heed except to endeavor to hawk wares, for even with their foreign garb and fey appearance, the power of gold was great. And great it was in Malgorian with the click of coins, crow of many animals, songs of women, and smell of sweet meats. Melkor smiled gloriously with wicked thoughts and dark desires. He was in a fine mood.

They made for the spiking heart of the city and gleaming tower where leaders must dwell. Doom and fell wishes in their hearts, the Dark Lords approached to bring horror. Guarded was the arched entrance to this tower for whomever ruled this land was a greedy lord who hoarded gold in cold company. Upon such guards Melkor placed an enchantment with a lecherous sigh of pleasure for they passed as though invisible.

Through the entryway and high-domed halls they moved by servants, courtiers, and financiers heedless of their presence. At this Melkor laughed most cruelly, his terrible glee echoing loudly, but his voice was mute to all near save the fiery Maia. The Dark Lord instinctively tracked his way through a final hallway bedecked with the emblem of he who ruled here—two serpents twining around a cornucopia of fruits and grains to symbolize the devil of trade and hedonism. This is an emblem I will soon replace with mine own signet of bejeweled crown and mountains three! Hmm… I shall have to adjust mine emblem to remove the Silmarils from the crown for they matter not! In due time. 

At a great guarded entrance Melkor gave pause to edge in anticipation at what must be the core of the Malgor's kingdom. With a flash of his dark unlight, Melkor opened the double doors, but not with haste. A thunderous rumble of power heralded their entry as the hinges creaked inward at an agonizing and deliberate slow pace. And herald this action did, for all eyes of the pompous and painted court flicked to the figures— a crowned, Dark Lord clad inky black and a lesser but wondrous companion dressed in red and gold with hair of a ruddy color not seen among the Malgors. Their presence was ominous and drenched in ill intent.

Far taller they were than the Malgors, and too pale of face they seemed to the citizens of this land with foreign angular features, pointed ears, and eyes of hues not found in Malgorian. Both lordly, the dark one was the obvious Master of the two with the red haired one standing behind his Lord in deference. Greedy and lustful, the black one was thrumming with power and desire. A wrongness clung to the air of great hall, for the appearance of the pair dripped with foul objectives and violence. Terribly Melkor grinned as he captured the bubbling core of Malgorian with his eyes.

The apparent king of the Malgors stood in haughty indignation. All thick and oily girth the king was, flowing with embroidered white drapes, a fine turban, and ornamented with beads, superfluous feathers, and tassels that only added to the appearance of his great width.

Although started, he maintained a kingly composure, “Who is this before my kingdom and court? At present we are not expecting visitors. What is the occasion? How enter you now? Speak your names and titles if you own them, and declare your intent, visitors. For I know naught of you and clearly you have traveled far, for in my wisdom I do not recognize your kind. Be you friend, then Malgorian will provide our finest welcome,” and in a diplomatic gesture, he spread his arms wide for if this pair came in trade, then Malgorian would certainly welcome greater prosperity.

The Ainur understood the accented derivation of the cryptic dwarven Khuzdul language spoken though the Malgors were not dwarves. Curious. Ignoring the inquiry, Melkor answered no question and walked to circle and make a study of the golden room with interest. Such great wealth and wanton waste, riches I could transform into abundant horrors! His eyes lit upon a rack of vicious scimitars as he passed and whispered his fingers on the weapons.

In fact, many blades pointed at both Ainur, paying particular attention to trail Melkor as he traced a slow and a winding path amid the hall. One young and bold warrior’s sword brushed threateningly along the Vala’s brocaded chest as Melkor moved through the staring throng. All watched the sensuous movements of the pale, dark visitor who emitted power and lust.

Time. Too long had passed since the Malgor leader’s wary greeting and pointed questions. Justly, this passage of time prompted another Malgor to press for information, “Your king asked a question, visitors,” this second figure gave the appearance of a seasoned and medal-heavy captain.

Mine king? Mine king? This is not a question to ask Melkor for his features twisted in horrific displeasure. Powrr shook all of Malgorian, a power with an epicenter of Melkor’s fëa as voices of fear arose from all. “I know no king for I am the King of Arda!!”

Woe to the captain who asked Melkor to call another lord for the officer’s hands were now clutching his head, a form which dripped prolific blood from the ears. The horrendous shriek terrified soft onlookers when next the eyes seemed to withdraw into his head as two rivers of blood streamed red from the sockets.

As Melkor hit at the air with a pale fist, it was as though a great battle club pounded the man’s head. First the nose was inverted and horribly misshapen, then cheek bones collapsed, then the mouth ripped on one side to reveal the teeth inside. With a final vicious blow, the once captain hit the marbled floor with a soft thud. Dead.

Hmm…oh yes! Ugh! Oh! Oh! Melkor felt throbbing pleasure with each discharge of power. Yes! More! More! A pale hand he traced over his own flanks in shameless sensuality.

Sharp intakes of breath met palpable silence at the spectacle of Melkor’s evil. All turned toward the dark one who now locked the doors with a click of his fingers. Trapped! Like vermin! I will drink deeply of your blood, foolish Malgors! Then, the Dark Vala grinned with sickening malevolence for he was in his ecstatic glory! 

Men of action rightly leapt to protect the Malgor king. One of them drew close to stab Melkor on the side of his ribs, puncturing the thin jacket to elicit a hiss of pain. Damnit!! I must suppress my pain! And he did so before rapidly healing and easily bringing death to the attacker.

Alarm. "Mairon!" He sensed that the Maia was overwhelmed in fierce combat as too many Malgors simultaneously slashed and stabbed. Melkor bowled these over like a house of cards and sent half alight into screaming flames of agony. He cared not! Others he impaled with animated blades lifted from the rack of scimitars. Women screamed and pawed at the door, and Melkor snapped the necks of several with hideous cracks simply to silence their shrill cries. Guards were torn asunder, limbs flying off in unison and Mairon was now slicing through many of the officers with ease. After snatching away the lives of many of its gaudy occupants, Melkor cleared a path to his lover. He desired his Lieutenant and wished to press his hips against his lover’s.

“Hello, Lieutenant,” he panted, sounding much as he did after furious love making, for indeed Melkor was in wild ecstasy. Every flash of power sent hot waves of pleasure through a body flush with the throbbing drum of the Flame Imperishable.

This was not a subtle pleasure, for Melkor was shuddering in shameless delight, breathless, pupils dilated, and barely able to prevent his hips from angling to drive his rapture to climax. A hint of pink graced his pale cheekbones and he licked his lips. He was so aroused he could barely think, the slit of his cock dripping in his britches. Oh Eru, you really entice me with this… motivation so as not to touch your precious elves. Ugh! 

With victory in this throne room endeavor so clearly in the hands of the two Ainur, Melkor took the hand of his Maia, slid an arm around his waist and they kissed deeply. The Vala breathed with relief as he was now able to press his lust against another, and he grinded his clothed erection against the Maia. Mairon loved it for they had conquered not with an army but by aiming at the gaudy heart of Malgorian.

Absolute horror and revulsion filled the hearts of all thirty remaining Malgors as such actions of desire between men were unheard of. Adding to the evil of their murderous rampage, to the Malgors, the sight of two males in lust was an unspeakable revulsion. “I told you that I wished to… talk to them. I think I have. In my own way,” Melkor tugged at the laces of his lover’s pant lacings, but in teasing only, for more satisfaction would come later.

“That you have, my love,”

Then flashing his eyes to those of the terrified king, Melkor strode sensuously to the trembling Malgor. Circling the ruler upon the top of the dais, Melkor stood behind him and traced a finger of false affection to his cheek, “And you! " he whispered in the king's ear, his hot breath brushing closely, "You are not my king, for I am Melkor, he who Arises in Might. The ruler over all Arda!” and the king blanched for he was bested and fearful to his core at the beautiful, ruinous evil bestowing such terrible gentleness. In one vicious motion, the Dark Lord slashed his arm to the side sending a thick wave of power to twist the Malgor king's neck into an unnatural angle. Snap! Falling in a heap, the once Malgor king crumpled to the floor with a loud thud.

Laughter filled the ears of all at the delight of this terrible Lord as he gloried in his unholy deeds and sat on the king's throne to claim the seat of power, "Can it really be this easy, Mairon? Can it now?" Though this initial victory was sweet, soon he would face an enemy that would flex his power, test his resolve, and play at his mind.


End file.
